


Bleed Like Me

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of stand-alone Violate kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleed Like Me

“Violet, I want to own you.”

“Like at video games?” 

They were lying in her bed, as they had every day for two weeks, limbs and hair tangled together in a lazy embrace. She hadn’t bothered to put on her usual layers of sweaters, but he was fully dressed, as usual.

“Come on, be serious. I’ve never told anyone this before. I mean I want to be in charge of you. Control you.”

“Tate, I have a dad already.”

“I mean like, sexually. I’m sorry. Forget it.”

“Okay.”

“What, you’d be willing to try it?”

“Yeah, why not?”

He laid her back on the bed, rubber-soled toes rubbing against her bare ankle. He hefted himself up on his palms and looked down into her eyes. “If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, we can stop. But I hope you don’t want me to.” His jaw raked against her sensitive neck, tracing her jugular with his pale stubble that never grew in. His rough hands found her wrists and dragged them above her head. The sensation was strange, and made her a little nervous, but she swallowed it. She wasn’t afraid of anything, especially not Tate. “I’ve always wanted someone who trusted me like this, and ever since we met I was hoping it would be you.” His hard cock hitched against her thigh and she moaned. It was becoming harder to form words, which was a shame because she desperately wanted to tell him how much she loved that she could feel the head of his cock through his jeans. Instead, it came out as a muffled sigh. “What was that?”

“I just— it feels—”

“It feels good?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled against her mouth, just out of her reach. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You feel so good, Tate. Every time you touch me.”

He pressed her hands together under the blade of his forearm. “I want to use both my hands. Can I tie you up?”

“Um, sure.”

“You can trust me, Violet. You won’t regret this.” He sprang out of bed and returned with a red tie she kept from her Avril Lavigne worshiping stage. She watched him cinch her hands together like a ribbon around a gift, and then fasten the ends to the headboard. She took a deep breath.

He straddled her waist and wrestled off his shirt, and then slid his bare chest down her body and tugged her jeans over her mismatched socks and off completely. “If I didn’t love the way you taste so much, I would skip this part,” he said, pulling her underwear aside and running his tongue firmly up her slit, coming to rest on its pinnacle. He stopped and grinned against her while she shuddered in pleasure. He did it again and again, quicker, overwhelming her with sensation. She was arching and squirming and panting when he lifted up his chin and said “You’re going to ask me permission for things from now on.”

“Like what?”

“Like whether you can cum.”

“Oh— but— please?”

“No way, little girl. You don’t get to cum until I can feel it around my dick.”

She groaned in frustration. “You are a cruel man.”

“And that is exactly how you like it.” Violet found herself wanting to reach out to touch him, and the fact that she couldn’t was an oddly satisfying tease. She moaned and squirmed in her restraints, which she found to be surprisingly effective at keeping her just where he wanted her. “What’s wrong, Flower?”

“I just want to touch you so bad.”

“But you’re so pretty like this. I get so hard, because you’re so soft.” She heard him drag down the zipper of his jeans, bring out his cock and slowly palm it. With a brief catch because of her tightness, he slowly pushed inside of her, gently filling her up. He hissed and groaned like an animal when he bottomed out, sending a wave of pleasure down her spine. “Flower, you have no idea how many times I’ve cum imagining you like this.”

“It’s that easy?”

“Nothing about you is easy. Would you let just anyone do this to you?”

“Maybe, if I like it enough.”

His eyes darkened and he stopped pumping, leaving her filled but desperate. “I want you to be mine, Violet.”

“I am yours.”

“I want you to be mine. Like— I don’t want any other man to get the chance.” She giggled. That was awfully sappy for Tate. “I’d never actually hurt you,” he said, “but I love having you tied up like this.” He shoved his two fingers into her sides, making her buck and squeal in pain. Once she recovered, though, she found herself panting and even more needy than she had been. Maybe it had something to do with the way she caught his eyelids fluttering when her vision refocused, or maybe it had something to do with the blades in her vanity drawer. Maybe it was something that was in her all along, something darker than she wanted to admit.

“Thank you,” she said. She sounded lustful and desperate even to herself, which was both shameful and invigorating. “Tell me more.”

“You love it when I talk dirty, don’t you?” He pinched a line down her exposed arm with his fingernails.

“I want to hear what you’d do to me if you had the chance. The sort of things you think about when you’re… alone.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.”

He started pumping into her slowly and forcefully, pausing between every thrust before driving himself in deep again. She was curling and twisting underneath him, completely out of sync with his staccato rhythm. She was losing control.

“I think about bending you over your dad’s desk and making you scream. Maybe spanking you. Maybe if you like it, spanking you until your cute ass is red. I think about tickling you until you cry. I think about feeding you and bathing you and brushing your hair and fucking you in the ass even though you don’t like it."

“Please, Tate, can I please cum?”

“No.”

“Come on, please? I don’t think I can—”

“You don’t think you can what?”

“I don’t— think I can— hold off? I just, please?”

He bent in close and tongued the space behind her ear, and then pounded even more forcefully, mashing his hips against her thighs. “You love having my cock inside of you.”

“Yes!”

“You want to cum so bad. But you’re going to wait until I say you can.”

She desperately wanted to please him, but the pressure was building and her mouth was watering and she didn’t think she could hold it in any longer, especially with the firm and regular way he was fucking her. “Please?”

Strained, he finally said, “Cum for me, Violet,” and within two thrusts she did, finally, squealing and writhing as he gasped and sighed, flooding her.

Wordlessly, he pulled out and left her there, and the emptiness was physically painful. She wanted more.


End file.
